


One Love

by Alasse_Irena, RsCreighton



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: pt-lightning, PT-Lightning Challenge: Round 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:26:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alasse_Irena/pseuds/Alasse_Irena, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Charlie Weasley figures out what he wants from life, and it's definitely not what his family and friends expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Love

[MP3](http://rscreighton.parakaproductions.com/Podfics/PT_Lightning/February%202015/One%20Love.mp3)

Streaming

 

“Charlie?”

Charlie is beginning to hate Valentine’s Day. He has no idea when he became the fifth year heartthrob; he only knows that the next time somebody asks him anything about drinks and Madame Puddifoot’s and this weekend, he is going down to Hagrid’s hut and enquiring about the most vicious and thorny creature that humankind is aware of.

“No thanks,” he says, politely. His mother always told him that it pays to be nice to people, and Molly Weasley is the kind of person who knows how to save up the angry violent inner monologue for the right moment. It’s probably a genetic trait.

“No thanks what?” The voice sounds so genuinely puzzled that he stops.

“No thanks, I can’t stand Madame Puddifoot’s?” he hazards.

“Merlin.” Tonks makes an eloquent face. “Who’d want to go there?”

“Everyone, apparently,” says Charlie. “With me.”

Tonks laughs. “You look so anguished. Your beauty is a curse?”

Charlie tosses his head like he’s advertising hair products. “Something like that.”

“Tell you what,” she says, “let’s make it the Three Broomsticks. Saturday.”

Charlie manages a smile. “Yeah,” he says. “See you then.”

***

“Charlie Weasley,” says Professor McGonagall. She looks as severe as ever, but Charlie likes to think he can see an affectionate glint in her eye. “It doesn’t seem that long ago I had Bill in here for careers advice.”

“It wasn’t,” says Charlie. His mind is still on Tonks. “It was two years ago.”

McGonagall raises an eyebrow at him. “Have you given any thought to your future, Charlie?”

It’s not that he doesn’t _like_ Tonks. She’s the best kind of Hufflepuff - enthusiastic, honest and reliable. The idea of going out with her should be exciting.

He realises Professor McGonagall is watching him. He scrambles to remember her question. “A little,” he says, at last. Maybe he does have romantic feelings for her, and he just doesn’t know what that feels like.

“Go on.”

“Dragons,” says Charlie. He _has_ thought about this - he just didn’t intend for it to come out so bluntly. “I mean, I’m interested in dragons. I want to pursue Care of Magical Creatures.”

“I thought you might say that,” says McGonagall. “And you’re more than welcome to continue with that at Hogwarts.”

What is the point of a kiss? Charlie wonders. Swapping saliva doesn’t sound all that appealing to him, but then, Bill promises he’ll understand when he tries it.

“But I also had a word with Hagrid the other day,” she goes on. “Weasley—”

Charlie looks up to meet her glare.

“This is your future I’m talking about. Please try to pay attention.”

“Sorry Professor,” says Charlie. “I’m listening.”

“As I was saying, I was speaking to Hagrid, and he thought this might interest you.”

She passes him a piece of parchment, and it takes a moment for Charlie to read it.

“A friend of Hagrid’s is producing a thesis on the social structures of dragon family groups. He’s looking for a research assistant.”

Finally, Charlie finds his full attention on Professor McGonagall and the issue at hand. “Whoa, but this is Alethea Ridgebit,” he says, and is very surprised when he doesn’t stutter. “This is in Romania.”

“Food and board will be provided for.”

“No, my mum would—”

“Think about it. She’d come round. I think it would suit you better than another two years in the classroom.”

***

He’s going to try it, Charlie decides, looking at Tonks across the table. Her hair is vivid green today, and her lips plump and pink. She has a lovely, friendly face. Charlie leans forward.

“Tonks, can I—” he breaks off. All those romance novels he and Bill snuck out of their mother’s room when they were young suggested that this would just happen, in the heat of a passionate moment. Nobody ever asked “Can I?” in those.

But she seems to understand what he means. He has a moment where her eyes are right in front of his, too close to focus on, before he remembers hearing somewhere that people usually close their eyes to kiss each other.

Her lips are soft and warm, and her hand goes to the back of his neck to twine in his hair, and he remembers Bill trying to explain these feelings to him, ineloquently, when he asked what was so good about kissing.

It still doesn’t make any sense.

Her lips part, slightly, and - Charlie jumps back, pushing her away with his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t—” and he doesn’t really know what he’s doing when he stands up, his chair scraping backwards as he does. “I’m sorry,” he says, one more time, and he’s out the door before he has to look at her face.

***

“Bill?”

“Hm?”

“I think I’ve fucked up.”

Bill’s eyebrows go up. “Don’t let Mum hear you saying that.”

“Trust me,” says Charlie, “she’d think I’ve fucked up too.”

“What’ve you done?” Bill sits Charlie down in a worn out armchair, and produces a bottle of butterbeer so quickly that Charlie suspects he has some kind of magical butterbeer tap hidden under his robes.

Charlie accepts the drink gratefully. “I kissed Tonks.”

“About _time_ ,” says Bill.

Charlie takes a long swig of butterbeer. “Not about time.”

“No?”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.”

“You’ve been talking about her since September.”

“I don’t like her. I mean, not like that, anyway.”

“Are you interested in someone else?”

Charlie considers this for a long time. “I think,” he says eventually, “that Mum’d better pin her hopes for grandchildren on someone else.”

“I reckon she’ll cope,” Bill says. “There are seven of us. It’s not as though you’re dropping out of school to—”

Bill trails off, watching Charlie’s face carefully.

“Yeah,” says Charlie. “About that.”

“What’ve you done?”

“I applied for a research assistant position in Romania,” he says.

“Dragons?”

Charlie nods. “Hagrid knew someone who was doing a research project.”

“Well,” Bill says at length. “I’m not the one who has to tell her.”

***

“So where does this leave us?”

Charlie looks at Tonks and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His cheeks are bound to be reddening, just as her hair is - his complexion doesn’t let him keep secrets.

“I dunno,” he says.

“No?”

“I caught Bill kissing Donaghan Tremlett once,” Charlie says.

Tonks laughs out loud, and for half a second, Charlie thinks he’s defused the tension. Then her eyes narrow. “What’s that got to do with this?”

“He said he was experimenting.”

Tonks, as always, is right on the ball. “I’m not your experiment,” she says.

Charlie swallows. “You’re my friend?” he tries.

“And so you thought it’d be fine to kiss me. On Valentine’s Day.” Her entire face changes as she delivers this: the freckles fade from her cheeks, her eyes grow wider and darker.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on—” Charlie protests. It sounds stupid. “I mean - I’m not interested in you. but—”

“You thought you’d—”

“Tonks—” says Charlie, “I’m sorry. I may not have thought that plan through all the way to the end.”

“Well,” she says. Her hair dulls to brown again - her original colour, he remembers her telling him, that first day in potions class. “You’ve got all the time you need to think it through now.”

And with that, she walks out.

***

_Dear Mum,_

_I talked to Professor McGonagall and_

Charlie stops writing. How does he even start a letter like that?

_Dear Mum,_

_Is it okay if I quit school and leave the country?_

Not to mention the other issues he’s got at hand.

  _Dear Mum,_

_When Bill and I were kids, we found a stack of old romance novels under you and Dad’s bed. Does it really make your heart race?_

He stares at his parchment and sighs. He can’t write that, either. Even imagining chatting with his mother about love makes him blush.

 _Dear Mum,_ he writes finally.

_Careers advice was interesting. McGonagall gave me a lot to think about. I’m studying hard, but I hate being stuck inside all the time. I’ll be glad when the exams are over._

He doesn’t know how to even bring up the problem with Tonks, so all he says about it is:

  _I still found time to make it down to Hogsmeade last weekend, which was nice._

_Quidditch is going brilliantly! We beat Ravenclaw easily, and our next game’s Slytherin. I have high hopes._

_Write more when I’ve finished this Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. Bill’s too busy with NEWTs to give me a hand._

_Yours, Charlie. XOX_

***

“Tonks, you’re not interested in girls, are you?” Charlie hides his face in a mug of butterbeer while he asks the question.

Tonks drags a hand through her hair, and its colour fades a little as she does. “Honestly?” She pulls a little face. “I’m not even sure.”

“Okay,” says Charlie. “That takes a bit of the oomph out of my opening.”

There’s a pause. “What’s this about?”

“Dragons,” says Charlie, straight away.

Tonks raises her eyebrows. “Kinky.”

“Okay, no.” Charlie takes a deep breath. “I just...I don’t think _I’m_ interested in girls.”

The silence that follows is terrifying. Finally, Tonks says, “You’re not interested in boys, though.”

And just like that, it seems to make sense. “No.”

Tonks, as ever, is quick off the mark. “Just dragons,” she says. “Gotcha.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Her shrug is such a relief that Charlie feels like a knot is unwinding in his stomach. “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “Just don’t ever do that to me again.”

***

Charlie tells his mother as soon as he’s extricated himself from her welcome home hug, when the smoke of the Hogwarts Express is still stinging his eyes.

“I’ve accepted a position as a research assistant with Alethea Ridgebit.”

“Not Harvey Ridgebit’s daughter?” Molly knows exactly who he means.

Charlie swallows, then nods. “I’ll be leaving for Romania in June.”

There’s a long second where Molly’s mouth works - pursed lips, the beginning of a word, a crease between her eyebrows. Then she takes a deep breath, and lets it out. “I knew one of you kids would come to something,” she says.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the essay which inspired Charlie's leaving school after his OWLs: http://www.hp-lexicon.org/essays/essay-charlie-weasley.html
> 
> Donaghan Tremlett goes on to play bass guitar for the Weird Sisters: http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Donaghan_Tremlett
> 
> Harvey Ridgebit is also canonical, if you consider Wizard of the Month to be canon: http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Harvey_Ridgebit
> 
> Alethea Ridgebit is my own invention.


End file.
